Chapter 197: Gin Ichimaru's Shock
"Oh my, Captain Aizen, you must be joking," Gin said lightly, standing amid the corpses with that dangerous, lazy smile. "Do you doubt my loyalty at a time like this?"
His eyes stayed narrowed, his voice smooth as oil.
"I'm extremely loyal to Captain Aizen. I'm just an ambitious snake who likes to show his fangs. If that makes you feel uncomfortable, then I suppose I should apologize, Captain. But it's a shame. I've never been attached to anything else."
"…Yeah?"
Sosuke Aizen pushed up his glasses. The slanting light hid his eyes, turning his gaze into something unreadable.
Gin Ichimaru was a man shaped like a blade disguised as a smile.
Short silver hair, a pristine captain's haori, and that harmless posture, all of it framed by the blood pooled across the Central Forty Six Chambers. The corpses of the noble elders lay scattered like discarded puppets. And right in the middle of it, Gin stood as if he belonged there.
Compared to Kaname, who preferred silence and restraint, Gin was proactive. He moved first. He acted first. Even within Seireitei, where his manner seemed mild, he had personally overseen countless ugly reports and appalling experimental records on Aizen's side.
The reason was obvious.
Trust.
Gin wanted Aizen to believe in him.
But Aizen had known the truth from the beginning.
Gin hated him.
They both understood it, and they both accepted it. Gin's presence had always been a warning Aizen kept beside himself, a reminder that once he stepped onto this path, there would be no clean way back.
And in hindsight, Gin's existence had been necessary.
If Gin had never struck him, Aizen might never have realized what the Hogyoku could truly do. If he had continued evolving in that confused state, growing without restraint until he could no longer control himself, the outcome might have been far worse, perhaps even ending in the Soul King's Palace.
Aizen could admit one thing without shame.
He respected the man before him, the man who had thrown everything away for love.
Kaname's justice had shattered at the end, leaving him to die by his own hand. But Gin never wavered. He never forgot his goal. Compared to Kaname's righteousness, Gin's love was sharper, purer, and somehow more moving.
Looking at him now, Aizen felt something close to regret.
If they had not been enemies from the start, Gin's talent would have surpassed even Tōshirō Hitsugaya's. This was a genius who would burn his own life down to save another. A man who would do anything for the person he cared about.
And maybe, just maybe, it still was not too late.
"I know more than you think, Silver," Aizen said.
Gin's smile did not change.
Aizen's voice deepened, calm and precise.
"For example, the secret of your Bankai. The God Slayer Spear cannot truly reach three hundred times the speed of sound. Nor can it extend thirteen kilometers. Am I right?"
The air tightened.
Gin's eyelids flickered, almost imperceptibly.
Aizen continued, as if discussing the weather.
"The power to let dreams begin again. The power to wake this world anew. That's what I have chased from the beginning, and now I've obtained it. So as promised, I will release what was taken."
His tone remained gentle.
"I even killed myself for it. To be honest, watching another version of myself die in front of me still left a subtle feeling behind."
"Captain Aizen…?"
Gin's expression shifted by the smallest degree, not enough to be called shock, but enough for Aizen to hear the thoughts behind it.
You are doing it again.
Talking to yourself.
Explaining things without knowing who you are explaining them to.
But Gin was a master of pretending. Over the years, his mask had become so smooth it could survive nearly anything.
Even now, with Kaname gripping his Zanpakuto in tense silence, Gin remained relaxed. Not too close, not too far. His breathing steady. His posture respectful. His face filled with the mild confusion of a subordinate watching his superior spiral into strange behavior.
Perhaps pretending for too long erased something real. Perhaps the innocent shadow Gin once had was gone forever.
He stared at Aizen for a long moment, then sighed, as if he had reached a conclusion.
"Captain Aizen," he said softly, "do you get nervous even in situations like this?"
"Oh?"
"It's a big plan," Gin continued, nodding as if reassuring a friend. "Killing the Central Forty Six, reshaping Soul Society, that's not a small undertaking. Of course you'd feel tense when you finally do it. You haven't become a god yet, Captain. You've only told us you're working toward that goal. So it's normal to be a little nervous right now."
This had always been their rhythm.
Aizen gave the orders.
Gin smoothed the edges.
Kaname carried out the work.
But now, looking at Gin earnestly trying to explain everything away, Aizen shook his head.
He truly admired him. Not many people could do what Gin had done. Ability, will, and the courage to act.
Yet this was also the weakness of a world without trust.
In the Land of Fire and beyond, no one truly knew what kind of person Aizen was. In that blank world, he could reveal his talent freely, find replacements, test subjects, tools.
In Soul Society, everyone had known him for hundreds of years. Everyone believed they understood him.
Not because there was something wrong with him.
But because they could not trust a single word he said.
Even the truth would be treated as a trap.
It was irritating.
But not fatal.
After all, he was not the one who would be lying in the dirt later.
Aizen's voice cooled slightly.
"I can manipulate the five senses, and I can twist perception itself. But the spiritual pressure piercing your body cannot be faked. You know Kyoka Suigetsu's hypnosis is broken the moment you touch its blade."
He stepped forward.
"So this is your last chance. Do you want to show me the resentment you have been holding back for so long?"
"Captain Aizen's words are truly baffling," Gin replied smoothly. "I have never…"
Aizen laughed softly.
Then, like a water skin being punctured, the sound of flesh giving way filled the room.
Gin stared down in stunned silence.
Red spread across his abdomen.
He looked up, disbelief flickering through that permanent smile, and stared at Aizen, who still wore the same gentle expression, as if he had done nothing at all.
Kaname shuddered and took a step forward, but Aizen's spiritual pressure expanded.
It was heavy, thick, like mercury flooding the air.
The chamber groaned. Stones creaked. Some corpses, unable to bear it, crushed flat without any visible force, breaking into smeared pools of blood.
Aizen's hand gripped the blade embedded in Gin's body.
"This is your last chance, Silver," he whispered, voice quiet and merciless. "If you don't move now, I'll treat you as a failure."
Gin's breathing turned rough.
Aizen's tone stayed conversational.
"Your Bankai is not an instant extension," he said. "It is poison. A cytotoxic substance. Once it decomposes, it spreads through the body at terrifying speed. When your Word of Power is triggered, the entire body is corroded from the inside. That is the real power of your Bankai."
Gin's breathing steadied.
Slowly, he raised his head.
His eyes, still narrowed, fixed on Aizen's face. Then his hand reached out and closed around Kyoka Suigetsu's blade.
The moment skin met steel, the hypnosis record locked.
Hands were where spirit particles surged most fiercely. Damaging an arm was one of the most severe injuries a Shinigami could suffer.
Gin did not flinch.
He pushed forward.
Deliberately.
As if savoring the pain, or as if confirming the spiritual pressure he felt was real. Blood flooded his palms. The blade slid, slowly, scraping through his flesh as he forced it out of his own body.
Aizen watched and sighed.
"So I know exactly what you will try to do," he said softly. "I don't want you to keep choosing wrong, Gin. There aren't many people in Soul Society who can be called smart, and most of them are trapped by bonds. Kisuke, Tōshirō, you, all of you are shackled by emotions and people. Your talent is disciplined into a corner until it can no longer shine."
His voice carried something rare.
Sadness.
"If it weren't for me, you might not have become a Shinigami at all. That is why you never believed me. And back then, I used you as a whetstone. In the end, that hurt what could have been friendship."
Aizen's eyes lowered.
"We should have been comrades. We should have supported each other. But we became enemies because I hurt the person you cared about. That is… regrettable."
Gin finally pulled the blade free.
He inhaled, then smiled as if nothing had happened.
"No matter how many times I hear it," Gin said, voice light, "Captain Aizen's words are still strange."
He pressed a hand to his wounds, then looked up with that lazy grin.
"I don't care about the woman you mentioned, Matsumoto Rangiku. If you want, I can kill her right now. Even if you're a bit on edge today, Captain, you've been going too far lately, haven't you?"
Aizen stared at him for a moment.
"…Still refusing to accept it."
He lifted one finger.
"Then we use the last resort."
In the next instant, Gin's figure shattered like glass and vanished.
He reappeared with Shunpo at a different angle, breath uneven, eyes briefly widened.
For a heartbeat, he felt something gathering at Aizen's fingertips, a killing intent so dense it made the world feel thin.
Then it vanished.
Gin forced a shaky laugh.
"Captain Aizen, that's not funny. If you point a finger at me like that, I'll really die."
"The fact is you won't die," Aizen said calmly. "Not until you decide to complete your mission."
"That's as if I'm definitely going to betray Captain Aizen…"
Gin's smile twisted.
He bent forward, coughing, and spat blood.
And in the next instant, as his body dipped and their lines aligned, a silent ray of light flashed.
"Shoot him," Gin whispered.
"God Slayer Spear."
A brilliant silver white line pierced straight through Aizen's body.
A moment ago, Gin had looked afraid. Complaining. Unsteady.
In the next moment, he had released his Bankai and struck with absolute precision.
Silvery mist poured into Aizen's body, spreading like boiling venom. It surged, melted, corroded, turning Aizen's flesh into something riddled and dissolving, as if he would collapse into nothing at any second.
But it was not enough.
Pure white, woodlike structures erupted from Aizen's chest and limbs, branching instantly, filling every ruined space. In a blink, the damaged body was reinforced, repaired, restored.
Before Gin could react, that same pure white matter shot forward and slammed into him like a brutal punch.
The assassin flew.
He crashed through dozens of steps, smashing stone and debris, and fell into the ruins.
It had all happened within a second.
Kaname had not even moved before Gin was already coughing blood, collapsed in rubble, face twisted in pain.
Aizen strolled toward him.
White substance continued to surge and knit across Aizen's body, repairing it as easily as breathing. Watching that impossible regeneration, Gin closed his eyes.
As expected.
It still did not work.
He had no final words. Only regret, bitter and sharp, at how weak his power felt in front of this man.
But when Aizen reached him, there was no finishing blow.
Instead, Gin felt warmth.
A strange healing process spread through his body, like some peculiar technique being transferred from Aizen into him, sealing wounds that should have remained fatal.
Gin's eyes widened.
Aizen's voice lowered.
"If I don't do this, no matter what I say or do, you will treat it as a conspiracy. Without trust, the only thing that makes communication meaningful is one sided violence. One party forcing the other to accept reality."
Aizen's gaze stayed steady.
"At this point, whatever I do will be understood, because you will have no other choice. Rangiku's revenge is not complete. You have not protected her. So you will not die."
He paused.
"And I won't let you die, Kagami, Gin. Everything I did was for a better world. I've said it many times. But this time, I want you to understand something else."
His tone softened, almost sincere.
"My feelings, and my actions, were real. I found the answer. I found the solution."
Aizen reached into his robes and produced the dazzling sphere again.
Then he placed the Hogyoku in front of Gin.
"So take it," Aizen said. "Take back the piece of your childhood friend's soul. This is your reward, and your answer, for every moment you forced me forward."
Gin lay amid the ruins, breath ragged, blood on his lips.
His pale blue eyes opened slightly.
He stared at the Hogyoku, unmoving.
He knew a part of Rangiku's soul was inside it. He had chased that truth for so long that it had hollowed him out from within.
Yet now Aizen placed it before him, then stepped back, as if he did not intend to snatch it away, as if he was truly offering it.
A storm rose in Gin's mind.
He could not understand what this meant.
Was Aizen a demon.
Or was he, somehow, a savior.
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